


i've had the time of my life

by merrymegtargaryen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abortion, F/M, the dirty dancing au that literally no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-26 06:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12053472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/merrymegtargaryen
Summary: Arya expected a sleepy summer vacation, but her stay at Baratheon's becomes anything but sleepy. Her father has always taught her to be the good she sees in the world, but she's about to find out that some things are easier said than done.





	1. be my baby

**Author's Note:**

> So it occurred to me while I was uploading this to ao3. that this is my first ever multi-chapter Arya/Gendry fic--so that's pretty cool!
> 
> This is, as you have gathered by now, a Dirty Dancing AU. It's going to be very similar to the 1987 movie, with a few inevitable changes. I'm estimating about six chapters, with updates every day or every other day. Please let me know if you have any questions/comments/concerns.
> 
> And with that, enjoy! and have the time of your life or whatever.

_ “Big girls don’t cry _

_ Big girls don’t cry-y-y” _

Arya turned to her sister. “They’re talking about you.”

“Shut up,” Sansa said, never taking her eyes off her book. 

“Now girls,” Catelyn said in a tired voice. “We’re going to be together all summer--let’s at least try to get along.”

“You’ll be sharing a room,” Ned added. 

“She’ll suffocate me in my sleep.”

“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t wait until you were asleep,” Arya said. 

“Girls.”

Arya smiled and looked out the window. She was looking forward to this vacation, even if Sansa was being pricklier than usual. Robb was on his honeymoon, Jon was overseas, and Bran and Rickon were at a summer camp of their own. The house would be so quiet that Ned and Catelyn had decided to take the girls to a retreat in the mountains. Sansa hadn’t been wild about the idea, and admittedly, neither had Arya at first, but she’d never taken such an intimate vacation before and she was excited at the prospect. She and Sansa had been getting along better now that Sansa was at school (a finishing school where women majored in getting married, in Arya’s opinion, but a school nonetheless) and only came home for holidays, and she hoped that this trip would make them bond. She hoped, too, that her parents would start to view her as an adult--or at the very least, stop treating her like a baby. 

Baratheon’s was situated deep in the mountains, far enough away from civilization that it truly felt like a hideaway. As the car pulled into the main lot, Arya couldn’t help looking around in awe. The resort was built around the curve of a lake, and all around them were the gentle green slopes of mountains. White-washed cabins in all shapes and sizes were dotted all over the place, many with screened-in porches overlooking the lake. In the field below them were guests in their summer clothes, playing games and laughing. 

Robert Baratheon, the owner and founder of the resort and an old friend of Ned’s, personally came out to greet them.

“Ned!” he boomed, catching the man in a bone-crushing embrace. “It’s been too long!”

“Nine years,” Ned agreed. 

“Nine! Has it been that long?!” Robert shook his head. “How the time has flown. Cat! It’s good to see you!”

“Good to see you,” Cat echoed, receiving his kiss to her cheek with grace. 

“And you must be Sansa and little Arya,” he bellowed, turning to the girls.

“Yes,” Sansa said primly. 

“Joffrey!”

A blond-haired boy who looked around Sansa’s age approached them. Robert slung an arm around the boy. “This is my boy, Joffrey. Goes to University of King’s Landing!”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sansa said, and Arya couldn’t help rolling her eyes when she saw how smitten her sister was.

Robert snapped his fingers. “Oi, Hot Pie, Lommy! Take their things to their cabin! These are special guests!”

Two boys--one fat with dark hair, the other skinny with blond hair, both around Arya’s age--quickly took the luggage from out of the trunk. Arya grabbed what they could not carry and followed them to the cabin that would belong to her family for the duration of their stay. 

“You don’t have to help us,” the fat one said.

Arya shrugged. “I don’t mind. What do you do here?”

“Mostly work in the kitchen,” the fat one said. “But I also do a lot of odd jobs.”

“I’m an outdoorsy bellboy,” the skinny one said. “Just call for Lommy and I’m at your service.”

Arya liked the two boys, especially after they told her the best and worst places to visit and things to do at the retreat--things that she was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to tell guests. Arya was eager to explore the property right away, and after her parents’ assent, she convinced Lommy and Hot Pie to give her a tour. The guest cabins were mostly grouped together while the recreational buildings were concentrated in two major spots. There were three gazebos for outdoor activities, even if it was raining, and a dock for the canoes. There were two dining rooms in different buildings, one of which had a stage and dance floor. 

“There’s a big talent show at the end of the summer,” Hot Pie said. “It’s kind of dumb.”

“The dance is always good, though,” Lommy said. “All the employees get together and do a big group number.”

“It’s the same dance every year,” Hot Pie pointed out. “But it is good.”

It was nearing dinnertime when they walked her back to the cabin, and Arya managed a quick shower before she put on a nice dress (ruining it, in Sansa’s opinion, with an oversized sweater) and accompanied her family to dinner. Robert Baratheon was already there with a dark-haired waiter.

“Ned,” Robert said, clapping a hand on the waiter’s shoulder. “This is Ramsay. He’s just gotten accepted to medical school!”

“So what are you doing here?” Arya asked with her usual tact--which is to say, none.

“I’m saving up some money before I go to school,” Ramsay said smartly, but Arya had a feeling he wasn’t being entirely truthful. 

“Ramsay, Ned is a very dear friend of mine,” Robert said. “Give him and his girls whatever they want.”

Arya waited until Robert and Ramsay left to lean over to Sansa and whisper, “Anything we want? Does that include his penis?”

“Shut up,” Sansa said, but she was laughing behind her hands. 

Dinner was nice, made better by the fact that Joffrey and Ramsay seemed to be taking it in turns to flirt with Sansa. Sansa was enjoying the attention, and Arya was enjoying watching Sansa fall for it. 

“For goodness’ sake,” Ned muttered. “I wish they’d let us eat.”

After dinner, Robert urged them to visit the dance hall. Joffrey asked Sansa to dance almost immediately, and rather than suffer the humiliation of dancing with her pitying father, Arya slunk around near the back of the house. It wasn’t long before Lommy found her and asked her for a dance. He was pretty good--better than Arya. He wasn’t tactful enough to ignore her two left feet, but Arya appreciated his honesty and laughed when he suggested leaving the fancy footwork to him. They were starting a mambo when a space cleared in the center of the floor and two dark-haired dancers took the spotlight. They were beautiful. They moved as if they’d been born to do this dance, as if nothing in the world made them happier than this. 

“That’s my friend Gendry,” Lommy said. “He got me this job. The girl he’s dancing with is Jeyne. They’re the dance instructors here.”

Arya could only watch, open-mouthed, as Gendry swung Jeyne up in the air, handling her as lightly as if she was a feather. 

“They look great together,” she said.

“Oh, yeah,” Lommy agreed with wide-eyed enthusiasm. “Everyone thinks they’re a couple.”

Arya blinked. “They’re not?”

Lommy shook his head. “Nah, just really good friends.” 

After one particularly impressive pose, Gendry and Jeyne released each other and went in search of other partners--older people without a partner who missed dancing with a handsome young man or a pretty little vixen. 

“I’ve gotta go work,” Lommy said. “But I’ll see you around.”

The dance hall wasn’t much fun without Lommy, and rather than deal with everyone’s sly, pitying looks, Arya went for a walk. The retreat was gorgeous at night--the lake was black as ink, and at its horizon was a perfect mirror of the moon. Arya gazed at it for a long time--minutes or hours, she didn’t know. When she finally felt like moving again, she continued pursuing her path up the slope of the mountain. She heard music from a big cabin at the top and was heading towards it when Lommy and Hot Pie came up the wooden walkway, their arms laden with watermelons.

“Hey, guests aren’t supposed to be up here,” Hot Pie said. 

“What’s up there?” Arya asked. 

“None of your business,” Lommy said, but right at that moment, he dropped one of the watermelons he was carrying. Arya caught it quick enough. 

“Looks like you could use help,” she said pointedly.

Lommy and Hot Pie exchanged a look.

“Can you keep a secret?” Hot Pie asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. Jerking his head, Hot Pie led the way up the steps and into the cabin. He kicked the doors open and they were immediately hit with a wave of sound. Arya’s mouth dropped open, but it wasn’t because of the music--it was because of what people were  _ doing _ to the music. It took a moment for her to realize that they were dancing, though she’d never seen dancing like that before. Bodies were grinding up against one another, joined at the hips as if they were one. Skirts were bunched up around the hips, shirts completely discarded. And Hot Pie and Lommy didn’t seem fazed at all. Arya tripped after them, awkwardly maneuvering her stiff body and the oversized watermelon in her arms around the couples. Most of them ignored her, too wrapped up in each other to pay her any mind. 

“Can you imagine them doing this on the main floor of Baratheon’s?” Lommy asked her as they deposited the watermelons on a table against the wall. 

“Where did they learn to do that?” Arya asked, shouting over the music.

Hot Pie shrugged. “Kids are doing it back home in their basements,” he said. 

“Wanna try?” Lommy teased.

Arya shook her head--but secretly, she did want to try. Lommy and Hot Pie were beginning to move in time to the beat, and after a moment, Arya felt brave enough to copy them. They, at least, weren’t grinding against one another, nor were they trying to make her. She shed her sweater and dropped it on the table, laughing as Hot Pie took her hand and gave her a twirl. When she righted herself, she was stunned to see Gendry standing in front of them.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked.

“She’s with us,” Lommy said--though whether he was bragging or defending Arya, she couldn’t tell.

“Guests aren’t allowed up here,” Gendry said.

“I carried a watermelon,” she volunteered. 

Gendry only gave her a look and then returned to the other dancers. Arya mentally kicked herself. “I  _ carried _ a  _ watermelon _ ?!”

A new song had started up by this point, and after a moment, Gendry appeared before her again, this time crooking a finger. Arya’s eyes widened as she realized he meant for her to come with them. She glanced at Lommy and Hot Pie, who only shrugged; giving a mental shrug of her own, Arya followed Gendry out to the dance floor. He turned to face her when they had found room and began to move in time to the music. His balance was low in his hips, which were gyrating towards Arya in a way that was….well. “Try it,” Gendry ordered. 

Arya did, but she knew she wasn’t doing it right. Everyone else’s hips seemed to roll naturally, and Arya felt like she was turning a particularly difficult ice cream churn. Gendry put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a firm push so that she was squatting. Arya felt even more awkward now, made worse by the way Gendry put his hands on her hips. She was already warm, and when he put his hands on her hips, she began to sweat beneath her dress. Gendry pushed and pulled until her hips found the rhythm he was teaching them. She’d never moved this way before and it made her feel...actually, she didn’t know what it made her feel. Hot. Sweaty. Gave her the urge to clamp her legs together. 

Gendry pulled her closer so that instead of instructing her, he was dancing with her. He didn’t say anything, just draped her arms around his neck while his intensely blue eyes watched her from beneath inky black hair. Arya had never been under this kind of scrutiny before. Boys had looked at her before, and she’d danced the occasional slow dance with one, but eye contact was rarely part of the deal. She couldn’t look away; she tried, once, to look at her hips, but Gendry put his finger under her chin and tipped her head back up so that she was looking right at him.

“Don’t watch your hips,” he said. “Just feel it.” He shifted even closer to Arya, his leg brushing between both of hers. Arya became extremely aware of his leg and its proximity to the jointure of her legs, but she knew he wouldn’t let her look down again. 

The song faded out, and everyone around them laughed and cheered. Gendry gently disengaged Arya’s arms from his shoulders, straightening up and moving away from her without a word. Frowning, Arya returned to where Lommy and Hot Pie were still standing, giving her open-mouthed looks.

“I think I should get back,” she said, reaching for her sweater. She slipped through the crowd and out of the cabin, determinedly avoiding looking at Gendry or Jeyne or anyone. The cool night air hit her as soon as she stepped outside, raising goosebumps along her skin and clearing the haze she hadn’t even realized had settled over her mind. What had  _ happened _ just now? It was more than just dancing--it was so much more intimate than that. But she barely knew Gendry. He’d acknowledged her existence for all of five minutes. And yet, she’d felt so bare beneath his stare. 

Gods, she sounded like Sansa’s romance novels. 

She got back to the cabin before her family. She changed into her pajamas and sat in the small living room with a book. She was still reading it when her parents and Sansa came back an hour or so later. 

“Arya! We wondered where you’d got to,” Catelyn said, kissing Arya’s head. “How was your walk?”

“It was nice. How was dancing?”

“Oh, it was nice.”

“It was lovely,” Sansa said, beaming. 

“Did you dance with anyone besides Joffrey?”

“Did you dance at all?” Sansa sniped back. 

Arya didn’t answer, just smiled into her book. 


	2. stay

The entertainment staff, including Jeyne, hosted a wig party the next day--the women staying at Baratheon’s could try on wigs to look like Jackie, Marilyn, and Cleopatra, among others. Arya thought it was kind of stupid since she knew she’d just look like a little girl playing dress-up, but there was nothing else to do anyway. Sansa looked unfairly good in the Marilyn wig, and Arya didn’t look terrible in the Jackie wig. They were still examining their reflections when Gendry approached the vanities. Arya perked up at his arrival, yanking off the wig and smoothing her hair. She smiled at Gendry, but he didn’t even look at her; he stood close to Jeyne and exchanged a few murmured words. After a moment he looked at the guests, who were making no move to hide their interested stares.

“You look lovely, ladies,” he said, but his eyes slid right over them and rested on Jeyne. He kissed her cheek and then strolled on his way. Lommy had said Gendry and Jeyne weren’t a couple, but Arya didn’t think Lommy was the most observant person--those two were clearly hiding something.

.

After dinner, Robert insisted they join him out in the gazebo. The weather was nice, and many of the other guests had also decided to take advantage of it to dance under the stars. This band played calmer music, perfect for casual dancing and walking around the resort. Gendry was there, dressed in a nice suit and dancing with a woman who was old enough to be his mother.

“She’s what we call a Bungalow Bunny,” Robert said to Ned. “Her husband works during the week and comes up on weekends--she’s here seven days a week. Takes lots of dancing lessons.” He gave Ned a crooked smile. “We cater to all kinds of families here, eh?”

Ned didn’t seem amused. “Cat?” he said instead. “How about a dance?”

Catelyn smiled and took his hand. Joffrey offered his own hand to Sansa, who was more than eager to accept, leaving Arya alone with Robert.  _ Please _ , she begged whatever divinity was listening.  _ Please don’t let him ask me to dance _ . 

“Well, young lady,” he boomed instead. “We have to find a partner for you!”

“That’s okay,” Arya started to say, but she was saved by Lommy, who had come to her rescue. 

“Arya, may I have the pleasure of this dance?”

“Yes please.” Arya accepted his hand and followed him out to the dance floor without so much as a backward glance at Robert. “Will you get in trouble?” she asked in a low voice.

Lommy shook his head. “Robert doesn’t care as long as the guests are happy.”

“So I could theoretically get you out of work by saying I wanted to spend time with you?”

“You,” Lommy said decisively, “are possibly my favorite person to ever stay at Baratheon’s.”

They’d been dancing for a few minutes when Gendry leaned over and tapped Lommy. “Have you seen Jeyne?” He didn’t even look at Arya, who couldn’t help feeling a little hurt.

“Not since this afternoon,” Lommy said.

“Well, go find her,” Gendry said testily. He still didn’t look at Arya--it was as if she didn’t exist.

“Can I come with you?” Arya asked as soon as Gendry was gone. 

Lommy shrugged. “Sure.”

He and Arya wandered the property in search of Jeyne--she wasn’t in her cabin or in any of the staff rooms. 

“Where do you think she could be?” Arya asked.

Lommy shrugged again. “Could be anywhere. She might’ve had to make a trip to town, or she could be talking to--well, anyway, it’s not a big deal. Gendry can handle the bungalow bunnies on his own. Let’s go to the kitchen and see if Hot Pie will give us anything to eat.”

They did find Hot Pie in the kitchens, but it was not the cheerful reunion Arya had anticipated. Jeyne was on the tile floor, her arms around her knees and mascara running down her face. She was sobbing hysterically, her shoulders shaking with the force of her tears.

“Go get Gendry,” Hot Pie said, hovering over her and wringing his hands. 

Arya and Lommy bolted across the lawn to the gazebo. Gendry was in the middle of dancing with another older woman, but as soon as Lommy whispered in his ear he excused himself and took off for the kitchens, leaving Arya and Lommy to trip along in his wake. Jeyne was still crying when they got to the kitchens, but a few murmurs from Gendry and she seemed to calm down, sniffling into his shoulder. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Arya asked Hot Pie and Lommy.

“She’s knocked up,” Hot Pie said. 

So  _ that _ was the secret. “What’s he gonna do about it?” she asked quietly.

But Gendry heard her and glared up at her--the first time since last night he had acknowledged her presence. “Because it’s mine, right?” he snapped. 

Arya flushed. “I just thought--”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“My life is over,” Jeyne sobbed. “I can’t have this baby. I don’t  _ want _ this baby!”

“It’ll be okay,” Arya said, feeling utterly, horribly sorry for the other woman. “There’s gotta be something you can do...”

Jeyne looked up, and it was as if she had only just become aware of Arya’s presence. “What’s she doing here? She’s gonna run and tell her daddy and he’s gonna tell Robert. Why don’t you just skywrite it, fellas? Jeyne got knocked up by Ramsay the creep.”

“Ramsay?” Arya repeated in horror.

“Look, kiddo, butt out,” Gendry snapped.

“But if you just tell Ramsay!” Arya said, feeling herself talking too much but unable to stop. “He’s got the money, I know he has--”

“He knows,” Jeyne said, swiping at the mascara on her cheek. “He knows, and he doesn’t give a fuck.”

Arya bit her lip. 

“There’s a doctor,” Lommy explained quietly. “He’s gonna be here one night next week. I could get her an appointment, but it’s $250, and none of us have the money.”

“Look, get the kid out of here,” Gendry said. 

“The kid can get herself out,” Arya snarled. She brushed past Hot Pie and stormed out of the kitchens. 

All night, Arya thought about poor Jeyne. Though she hadn’t been impressed by Ramsay, she couldn’t believe he would just do this to Jeyne. If he didn’t want to be with Jeyne and didn’t want the baby, why couldn’t he at least fork over the money to get rid of the problem? 

Arya asked him as much the next morning. He only agreed to talk to her if she helped him pour water at tables that hadn’t been occupied yet and arrange the place settings. 

“Because,” he said, eyeing her work critically. “It might not even be my problem.”

“You think it’s some other guy’s?” 

“Watch it! A little more precision, please?” Ramsay shook his head, pouring some of the water from the glass she’d over-filled into another glass. “Yeah, it could be some other guy’s. There are a lot of guys here--it’s funny that she chooses the one going to medical school, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think it’s funny at all. Jeyne is positive you’re the father,” Arya insisted. “Couldn’t you at least  _ help _ her pay it off? There’s at least a  _ chance _ you’re the father, you’ve got to admit that.”

“I don’t got to admit anything. You ever heard the saying ‘give a mouse a cookie’?” Arya nodded. “If I give Jeyne money now, what’s gonna happen further down the line?”

“Um...you won’t have to deal with this ever again?” she suggested. 

Ramsay shook his head. “She’ll keep coming after me asking for more money.” He glanced around and leaned in so that no eavesdroppers could overhear. “Look, Arya, if she didn’t want to get knocked up, she wouldn’t have. It’s not my fault she got careless.”

Arya felt a hot flash of anger. She raised the water pitcher and poured it down Ramsay’s pants.

So, Ramsay was out, which meant that Arya had to ask the one person she knew had the money and would give it to her: her father. Ned might not approve if he knew what the money was for,  but he  _ was  _ always telling Arya to help those who were worse off than her. Surely this counted?

Arya spent all morning working up the courage to get her father alone and ask him. Finally, Sansa and Catelyn went to take a group salsa lesson, and Arya suggested a walk with Ned. They walked through one of the nature trails in the woods, chatting about the resort and the things they had done and intended to do and the things Robb and Jon and Bran and Rickon would like to do if they were here. They paused near the top of the hill to admire the view, and Arya chose that moment to ask him.

“Dad,” she prodded. “Could I borrow $250?” Well, no use beating around the bush.

“$250?” Ned laughed. “What for?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“I see.” Ned shifted. “And why should I loan such an exorbitant amount of money if you can’t tell me?”

Arya chewed her lip. “There’s someone who needs help,” she said. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything but...they’re in trouble, Dad. And you’re always telling me to help people who are worse off than I am.”

Ned chuckled. “I suppose I am. Well, I trust you, Arya, and I know you wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t a worthy cause. I was going to visit the bank today anyway--I’ll get your $250 then.”

Arya beamed. “Thank you, Daddy!” She threw her arms around her father and hugged him tight. A thought occurred to her and she drew back. “Are you going to tell Mom and Sansa?”

Ned shook his head. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t want you to.” She hugged him again. “Thank you.”

.

Arya waited until she saw Jeyne slip out of the gazebo and up to the staff cabin before she excused herself. She fetched the envelope from under her pillow, where she had hidden it before dinner, and scurried up the steps to follow Jeyne. Sure enough, Jeyne and Gendry were dancing slowly with the other employees in the staff quarters, and ignoring the twist in her stomach, Arya made her way over to them. She had to tap Jeyne’s shoulder to get her attention, gesturing for her to follow. Jeyne did, Gendry, Lommy, and Hot Pie following suit,

“I got the money,” Arya said, handing the envelope to Jeyne.

Jeyne stared at her. “What?”

Arya closed Jeyne’s hands around the envelope. “There’s your $250.”

Jeyne stared at the envelope. “Ramsay?”

“No, you were right about him,” Arya confessed. “This is a gift from me.”

A slow smile crept its way over Jeyne’s face. “Is this girl for real?” she breathed.

“Yeah, it takes a lot of guts to ask Daddy for money,” Gendry grunted, and the smile fell from Arya’s face.

Jeyne’s smile, too, disappeared. “That’s nice of you, Arya,” she said. “But I can’t accept it.”

“What?”

Jeyne glanced at Gendry. “The doctor can only come next Thursday, but Thursday is the night Gendry and I have a gig at the Duskendale. If we don’t go, they’ll cancel our gig permanently.”

“Couldn’t someone else do it?” Arya asked. There were dozens of women dancing in the room right now, surely one of them could fill in for Jeyne?

Gendry shook his head. “Willow and the other Jeyne are working and no one else can learn the dance. Everybody works here.” His lip curled. “Why, do you wanna do it?”

Arya shook her head, but Lommy looked between the two women. “It’s not a bad idea.”

Gendry gaped at him. “Not a bad idea? It’s insane!”

“She’s got rhythm,” Hot Pie pointed out. “You said so yourself.”

Arya couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if Gendry was reddening. “Well so does Robert Baratheon, but I’m not about to take him out on the dance floor.”

“The doctor’s only here for one night,” Jeyne said quietly. “You’re a good teacher, Gendry, and if we both help her...well, it’s just the one time, and I should recover by the next Thursday.”

Arya winced and said, “I can learn it. If you’ll teach me.”

Gendry looked between them, clearly not happy. “Okay,” he said. “Meet me in the studio at nine am  _ sharp _ . Wear something comfortable.” He stormed off.

Jeyne wrapped Arya in a hug. “Thank you,” she said. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Arya hugged her back. “I always wanted to learn how to dance,” she said cheerfully. “Guess you and Gendry can show me how.”


	3. hungry eyes

Arya arrived at the studio at 8:50, wearing a tank top, shorts, and tennis shoes. They were comfy clothes--she hoped they were fit for dancing. 

But it wasn’t the clothes that were unfit for dancing--it was Arya. The steps were hard to learn, her body too short and too stubborn to move like tall, graceful Jeyne. Gendry criticized her spaghetti arms and her habit of leaning into his space. Arya felt like crying by the time it was done, but when Jeyne hugged her, she knew she could not give up. Jeyne needed her.

Arya came back the next morning, and the next, and the next. She started coming back in the afternoons, too, when Gendry wasn’t teaching dance lessons. Jeyne was usually busy leading group dance lessons and helping the entertainment crew in the afternoons, much to Arya’s disappointment. It wasn’t that Gendry was mean to her or that he wasn’t a good teacher, because he was, but he was tough and, because Arya wasn’t paying him, he had very little patience for her.

“He hates me,” Arya said one morning while she and Jeyne walked back to the main cabins. 

“He doesn’t hate you,” Jeyne said firmly. “He just has a hard time trusting new people.”

“Well, I asked my dad for $250 and I’m taking your place so neither of you lose your jobs--what else do I have to do for him to trust me?” Arya asked, trying not to whine.

Jeyne shrugged. “You gotta trust him.”

Arya blinked. “But...I barely know him.”

Jeyne laughed. “And he barely knows you. But you can’t work together if you don’t trust each other. You can’t dance the mambo by yourself. You have to rely on your partner, and they have to rely on you. You and Gendry have to learn to rely on one another.”

“I’ll give it a try,” Arya said, but secretly she knew she couldn’t just put her trust in Gendry. He hated her, no matter what Jeyne said, and as soon as the dance at the Duskendale was over, he’d go back to telling her to buzz off. That night she’d danced with him didn’t mean anything--he still thought she was a spoiled rich girl just doing this because she was bored. The part that bothered Arya the most was wondering if he was right. She was rich, and maybe she was spoiled, and maybe she really was just bored. Maybe Gendry had a right not to trust her. 

“You’re doing fine,” Jeyne said, seeing the worry on Arya’s face. “Really. I know Gendry isn’t...I know he doesn’t always tell you, but you’re improving so much. You’re gonna look great out there.”

Arya wanted to believe her, but she knew that she was far from ready to dance at the Duskendale. 

Her suspicions were confirmed when, on the Tuesday before the gig, Arya nearly got the ending right--until she felt herself wobble and took Gendry down with her.

“Damn, girl!” he shouted. “Are you trying to kill me?!”

“I’m sorry!” she yelped, but the damage had been done.

“Is this your idea of fun?” he muttered.

Arya, sweating, red-faced, sore, and exhausted, put her hands on her hips. “Why, yes,” she said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “This  _ is _ my idea of fun! I love learning to do a complicated dance in a matter of days so I can save yours and Jeyne’s asses and have you treat me like dirt! It’s not like the thought of coming here every day makes me sick or anything, it’s not like I see this studio in my nightmares! But sure, yeah, this is my idea of fun!” She gasped after she said it, her chest heaving with the force of her own daring. 

Gendry stared at her with mingled expressions of anger and shock. Arya wondered which would win out.

“Well let’s get out of here, then!” he said, surprising her. “Take that shit off.”

Arya obediently kicked off the heels and the crinolines she’d stolen from Sansa, pulling her tennis shoes and her shirt back on. She followed Gendry out to his car, where he discovered that he had locked the keys in the car. 

“You could call a locksmith,” Arya suggested, but Gendry was already walking back to the cabin. He grabbed a sizable rock from the ground and returned to the car.

“Stay back,” he said.

Arya took a step back and winced as Gendry slammed the rock into the car window, shattering a hole into the glass. He reached inside the hole and unlocked the door, grabbed his keys, brushed the glass off the seat, and then held the door open for Arya with a flourish. 

They roared down the road with the radio blaring and the wind whipping them in the face, and Arya couldn’t help laughing. “You’re wild!”

“What?” Gendry shouted over the wind.

“YOU’RE WILD!” she said, louder, and she and Gendry both laughed. 

Gendry drove them fifteen or twenty minutes down the road, pulling off where there was a small grassy path through the woods. He parked the car next to a small stream, over which ran a fallen log. He left the car radio running as he kicked off his shoes and encouraged Arya to do the same, walking out on the log. “This is one of my favorite spots,” he said. “I like to come out here and think.”

It was such a private thing to admit that Arya was taken by surprise. 

“It’s also a good place to work on balance.” He beckoned for her to follow him out onto the log. She did, hanging close to the end. He moved so smoothly, so gracefully, that she couldn’t help admiring his movements.

“Where’d you learn to dance?” she asked him, emboldened by his calmness.

“This guy came into a luncheonette one day and we were all just sitting around doing nothing.” He dropped down and straddled the log, feet swinging like a child. “And he said that this dance studio was giving out tests for instructors. And if you passed--” He swung up again, back on his feet. “--they’d teach you all these different dances, and they’d teach you how to teach. And I liked it, and I was good at it.” He crooked a finger at her. “All this to say: I see through your distraction, Miss Stark, and it won’t work. Get out here.”

“No,” Arya said.

Gendry walked to her and pulled her to her feet. “Come on.” He took her hand and her waist, and instinctively, Arya fell into her dancing frame. She looked down at her feet, terrified she’d fall, but Gendry put a finger under her chin and lifted it to face him. “Don’t look down there. Always look up here.” 

She did, but she nearly stumbled anyway. Gendry righted her, urging her further down the log. They were dancing the mambo, but the music playing from the car radio was decidedly not a mambo, so their dancing devolved into twisting as best they were able. As Arya relaxed, she found she was less afraid of falling off the log. The tension fell from her shoulders and her movements became more fluid. She turned to Gendry to laugh at how silly her dancing was, but he was watching her with a satisfied look.

“That,” he said. “Right there. That’s what dancing should feel like.”

“Shaking my butt on a log?”

“It should feel fun,” he said. 

Arya gaped at him. “You’re always snapping at me and making me so stiff and serious! You get mad every time I laugh because that stupid opening tickles me!”

Gendry splayed out his hands in a what-can-you-do sort of gesture. “Okay, maybe I have been a little harsh on you. But you’re so wrapped up in your head all the time.”

“Because I’m trying to remember everything!” But he was laughing and she couldn’t help laughing either.

“Come on,” he said, walking back to the car and turning off the radio. “Let’s go work on that lift.”

Arya would have preferred to stay on the log, but she put her shoes back on and followed him a small distance to a clearing. The grass was softer than the floors of his studio, but still not soft enough to cushion her fall. And she did fall. She ran from a short distance, she ran from a long distance; she took her time, she went too fast; but no matter what, she still could not get the lift right. 

“It’s because you don’t trust me,” Gendry said.

“I do trust you!” But Arya knew that wasn’t strictly true, and when she plummeted to the ground again, she knew he was right. 

“You know,” he said with a sigh, “The best place to practice lifts is in the water.”

They wandered past the clearing, and Arya was surprised to find how close they were to the lake. “Where’s Baratheon’s?”

Gendry considered and pointed to the slope of a smaller mountain. “You can’t see it behind all those trees, but it’s back there.” He shot her a grin. “Why, you afraid someone will find us?”

“Yeah, it would ruin my reputation.” 

Gendry was already kicking of his shoes and socks; by the time Arya did the same, he had waded out into the water. Arya took off her button-down again and wished, not for the first time that day, that she had thought to wear something other than a white tank-top underneath. Gendry waded out to where the water came up to his chest.

“I can’t stand in water that high,” Arya complained from where the water was still only knee-deep.

“You won’t be standing, you’ll be lifting.” He gestured to her with a wet hand, water droplets falling from his arm. “Come on.”

Arya sighed and waded deeper into the water until she had to doggy paddle her way over to Gendry. He held out his arms for her to hang onto so that she wasn’t splashing everywhere to stay afloat. “Okay. Let’s just try the lift. No running or anything.”

“Won’t the running help?”

“Later. You’re still falling because you’re afraid of falling. If you’re not afraid of falling, you’ll stay in the air. You’re not afraid of falling in the water, are you?”

Arya shook her head. 

“Okay. Hold onto my shoulders, but not too tight--I’m gonna put my hands on your waist and lift you slowly.”

Arya did as he instructed, and in a moment, Gendry was holding her soaking form aloft. Arya quavered and, a moment later, toppled into the water. It was no different than Robb pushing her off the diving board--in fact, it was even gentler than that. She resurfaced and wiped the water from her eyes. 

“Again.” 

Arya paddled back around and put her hands on Gendry’s shoulders, letting him hoist her up in the air. Accepting that she would inevitably fall into the water again, she went easily, holding her form. To her great surprise, she remained airborne for a whopping thirty seconds--easily her longest time yet. 

“You got it!” Gendry shouted, and that effectively broke the spell. Arya wavered, and then she was sailing straight for the water again. “Now you’re just doing it on purpose,” Gendry accused when she resurfaced.

Arya laughed and grabbed onto his shoulders so that she didn’t have to keep paddling and splashing. Gendry’s hands steadied her waist, and when she looked up she was surprised to see how close his blue eyes were to hers. 

Gendry cleared his throat. “Let’s try again.”

They practiced a few more times, and though Arya was still wobbly, she was able to hold the lift longer and longer. With the sun shining on her and Gendry’s strong hands lifting her up above the water, Arya felt, for once in her life, really and truly beautiful. 


	4. cry to me

Thursday arrived far sooner than Arya was ready. She met up with Jeyne during the other woman’s free period so that they could make one of Jeyne’s dresses fit Arya. It was hard to find something as Jeyne was on the willowy side, but she’d finally selected a daringly strappy green dress. The dress went down to her ankle, but there were slits in both legs so high that moving would not be difficult. If anything the most daunting part of the dress was that it would be impossible to wear a bra. And it wasn’t that Arya needed a bra, but she’d rarely gone out in public without one before, and she’d certainly never been dancing any of those times. 

“You’ll be fine,” Jeyne said, pinning the straps. 

“I hope so.” Arya tried to remain still. “I’m mostly worried about the lift.”

“It’s okay if you can’t do it,” Jeyne said. “It took me ages to do it right. Just pretend you know what you’re doing and no one will know the difference.” She was quiet for a long moment. “This is really...wonderful of you,” she said, looking up at Arya. “I mean...you don’t get anything out of this. You’re doing it because you’re a good person.”

Arya flushed. “I’m not,” she said weakly, but Jeyne shook her head.

“You are. You’re such a good person, Arya. And I can’t thank you enough.”

Arya didn’t know how to feel or what to say. She stood stock-still, face scarlet, as Jeyne finished pinning the dress. When this was done, she helped Arya apply makeup. Arya had only worn mascara and lipstick a few times in her life, and she’d allowed Sansa to give her a makeover a handful of times, but she’d never worn makeup like this before. Jeyne had gone the whole nine yards, assuring Arya that while it felt heavy, it would look natural under the lights on the Duskendale stage. After makeup, she pinned up her hair, and when Arya looked into the mirror, she almost didn’t recognize herself. Who was this beautiful woman gazing back at her? Had she really been part of Arya this whole time?

Hot Pie and Lommy had been instructed to say that Arya was taking a private dance lesson with Jeyne in case anybody asked--that way, both Arya and Jeyne’s absences would be excused. Arya had thought of asking Sansa to cover for her, but Sansa might decide to be nasty and tell their parents--and even if she didn’t tell their parents, she would hold it over Arya. No, better to let Sansa think Hot Pie and Lommy were telling the truth; if she even cared enough to ask.

Gendry drove them the hour and fifteen minutes it took to get to the Duskendale, blasting music as they went. Arya was grateful for the roar of the radio because it drowned out her anxiety over the upcoming dance. It would only last for a few minutes, but they would be the most stressful minutes of Arya’s life. When they arrived at the hotel, they checked in with the events coordinator and then changed in the lobby bathrooms. Arya couldn’t believe how well the green dress fit on her--almost as if it had been painted on. As if it was made for her and not tall, pretty Jeyne. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Gendry’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “You look amazing,” he said.

Arya flushed. She hadn’t even expected Gendry to notice. “Thank you.”

He held out his hand. Arya took it.

The ballroom of the Duskendale was daunting. Bright lights shined in their faces, and all around them people were staring expectantly. Gendry pulled Arya into starting position.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice said from the loudspeakers. “The Duskendale Hotel is proud to present Gendry Waters and partner in Mambo Magic!”

“Relax,” Gendry murmured into Arya’s ear, bringing her arm up around his shoulder. 

And suddenly they were dancing. Arya had done the steps a thousand times, found her feet going into place before could think about it. 

“Cross body lead,” Gendry would mutter, or, “Over here.” Arya hated that, because it somehow made her even more distracted. Worst of all was when he asked, “Ready for the lift?”

Arya nodded, stepping back. Just like the water, she tried to tell herself, bracing herself and running forward.

But she panicked at the last minute. She wasn’t ready for the lift. She couldn’t do it. She stopped short in front of Gendry, and after a fleeting, terrified moment, she did a stupid cha-cha around him. 

“Keep going,” he urged, and they fell back into the choreography. Arya’s face was burning, but she executed the rest of the dance without issue. The room erupted in applause when they took a bow, and a wide smile broke out over her face. Gendry gave her a twirl, which earned more applause, and suddenly he was twirling Arya gracefully off the stage. 

“We did it!” Arya exclaimed as soon as they were out of the ballroom. Gendry was still holding her hand. 

“We did,” he agreed with a grin. “ _ You _ did it.”

Arya flushed. “I didn’t do the lift,” she said.

“So? You were still fantastic.”

Arya beamed. Part of her knew that he was only saying it to be nice, but she was riding high on a rush of adrenaline and it made her want to believe him. 

They changed back into their street clothes in the lobby bathroom. Arya took down her hair, teasing it back into a bouncier, frizzier version of the way she normally wore it. She wet a paper towel and took off most of her makeup. The eyeliner and mascara were harder to take off, but that was all right--Arya liked the way they made her eyes look. 

The ride back to Baratheon’s was quiet. The radio was on again, but more of a gentle hum than anything. Occasionally one of them would say, “I can’t believe” or “D’you remember when”, but mostly it was an amicable silence. Arya felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. She had danced, and she hadn’t been wonderful, but she hadn’t been terrible, either. They’d gotten applause.  _ She’d  _ gotten applause. Even if Gendry went back to not talking to her after this, it would be worth it. She’d  _ done _ something. 

When Gendry turned off the ignition, he sat back for a moment, turned to look at her. Arya felt...what was it Sansa’s romance novels always talked about?  _ Frisson _ . She turned to Gendry. He leaned forward. She leaned forward.

And then Lommy was shouting and they jumped.

“Gendry, come quick!” he said as soon as Gendry had opened the door. “It’s Jeyne.”

Gendry sprinted to Jeyne’s cabin, Arya and Lommy tearing after him. “What happened?”

“The guy had a folding table and a rusty knife,” Lommy said. “I heard her screaming but he locked the door--couldn’t get in until he left.”

A group of employees, including Hot Pie, were gathered around Jeyne’s bed. She was covered in blood and clutching her stomach, tears streaking down her pretty face. It was bad. 

“Why didn’t you take her to the hospital, call her an ambulance?” Gendry demanded, taking Jeyne’s hand.

“She begged me not to,” Lommy said. “Said they’d call the police.”

“I’m going to die,” Jeyne sobbed. “I’m going to die, I just know it.”

Arya stumbled out of the cabin and then raced down to her own family’s cabin. The lights were off and everyone was asleep, so Arya crept into her parents’ room and shook her father awake.

“Arya?” he muttered. “What is it?”

She held a finger to her lips and grabbed his medical bag. Ned saw this and pushed himself out of bed, slipping pants on over his boxer shorts. He put on shoes and then followed Arya up to the staff cabins. “What is it?” he asked again. “Who’s hurt?”

“It’s Jeyne,” she said. “The dance instructor. She...she was supposed to get an abortion, but the doctor had a rusty knife or something....she’s hurt so bad, Dad.”

If Ned disapproved of the situation, he didn’t say anything, just kept following Arya up the stairs and into Jeyne’s cabin. 

“All right, everyone, please leave the room,” he said when he walked in, taking the bag from Arya. The staff immediately cleared out of the room, leaving only Arya and Gendry. “There, there,” Ned murmured as he leaned over Jeyne, who was still crying and clutching her stomach. “I know that hurts.” He glanced up at Gendry. “Are you responsible for this girl?”

“Yes,” Gendry said automatically. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself. All right, outside, both of you.” He turned back to Jeyne. “Don’t worry, you’re going to be just fine.”

Arya reluctantly backed out of the room, tugging Gendry with her. They stood on Jeyne’s porch for a long time, neither of them speaking or even looking at each other. A long time went by before Ned finally opened the door. Gendry sprung to attention. “Is she okay?”

Ned eyed him coldly. “Yes,” he said. “She’s sleeping now. She’ll need to stay in bed for a couple of days.”

“Oh, thank you so much, doc,” Gendry said, reaching to shake Ned’s hand--but Ned brushed past him. 

“Come along, Arya.”

Arya shot Gendry an apologetic look before hurrying after Ned, trying to keep up with his long strides. “Dad--”

“Is this what my $250 bought?” he bit out. 

Arya winced. “Dad, please--”

“I don’t want you to spend anymore time with that boy,” Ned said firmly. 

“Are you going to tell Mom and Sansa?”

“No, and I think it would be best if you didn’t, either. I’m going back to bed.” Ned strode off, leaving her behind.

Arya had never felt so hurt in her life. She had always been her father’s little girl, had been devoted to him long after her siblings grew up and moved on. She’d used the money to try and help Jeyne, but all it had done was hurt Jeyne and make her father hate her. 

She did not go back to her family’s cabin--she would be too miserable to sleep. But where else could she go this late at night, with everyone else in their own cabins?

And that's when she knew where she was going to go. 

She'd only been to Gendry’s cabin a couple times for dance-related things, but it was so far from the other staff cabins that she had no trouble finding it. When she knocked on the screen door, she saw Gendry sitting in a chair, a slow song coming out of the record player. Gendry got up from his chair, his face surprised as he unlatched the screen door. He was, she couldn’t help noticing, shirtless. “Arya.”

“Can I come in?” she asked, already on the threshold. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He kicked stacks of records aside, yanked some old clothes off the rocking chair. “Sorry it's...it's not very nice.”

“I think it's great!” she said with too much enthusiasm. She sat gingerly in the rocking chair while Gendry sat on his bed. They were quiet for a long moment, just listening to the music. “I'm sorry about my dad,” she said at last.

Gendry shook his head. “Don't be. I...I could never do anything like that. I mean the way he just jumped in and knew what to do…”

“Helping Jeyne doesn't make the way he treated you okay,” Arya said quietly. 

Gendry shook his head again. “People have been treating me like that my whole life. I'm a nobody.”

“You're not a nobody!” she cried. “How could you think that?”

He gave her a wry look. “Arya, a month ago I was eating Jujubes to keep alive. I could be back there just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Arya felt her chest heaving with anger. “It shouldn’t be that way!”

Gendry snorted. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You look at the world and you think you can make it  _ better _ . Someone’s lost, and you find them. Somebody’s bleeding--”

“Yeah, and I go get my daddy, like you said,” she muttered.

Gendry was scowling now. “That took a lot of guts, to go to him!”

“But you said--”

“Forget what I said. It  _ did _ take a lot of guts. You...you’re not scared of  _ anything _ .”

She gaped. “Gendry, I'm scared of everything! I’m scared of what I saw and I’m scared of what I did and most of all... I'm scared that after tonight, you won't look at me ever again.” She hadn't meant to say it so bluntly, putting it all out there in the open like that, but there it was, and there was no taking it back now. She held her breath, watching Gendry watch her. She couldn’t read the look in his eyes--she wondered if he could read hers. 

Slowly, Gendry got to his feet. He seemed impossibly tall as he looked down at her. “Come on,” he said in a low voice. “Dance with me.”

Arya found herself standing, her eyes never leaving his. He rested his hands on her waist, pulled her close like he had that night they’d first danced. His skin was warm against her chest--she could feel the heat from him through her thin blouse. She slid her hands up his torso and rested them on his shoulders, biting her lip. His hips were moving against hers, setting a slow but steady rhythm, and Arya instinctively followed his lead. It wasn’t like that night, where the music had been loud and fast and she felt as if she was only borrowing the body she lived in. The music now was soft and slow, and Arya was in complete control as she moved with Gendry. They moved together, and even though their dance was an invention of improvisation, it was as if they had been dancing it forever. 

Arya tipped her head back, let Gendry’s strong hands hold her as she arched her back. Her core pressed against his, and Arya was sure that she’d never felt  _ that _ before. As if reading her mind, Gendry ran his hand from her hip to the back of her knee, pulling her leg up and pressing it against his hip. She arched again, pressed even closer to him and feeling the heat radiate from him. When she rolled back up, she pressed her lips to his bare chest. His skin was hot and smelled vaguely of sweat. She pressed soft, slow kisses all over his chest and collarbone, and if she had looked up, she would have seen Gendry’s eyes close. 

Gendry moved with her again, their bodies rolling together, and when they stilled, she saw that his pupils were blown wide. She couldn’t explain how she knew, but she did, and without his prompting, she raised her arms above her head. Gendry untucked her shirt from her jeans, pulled it up and off. She’d never been fully shirtless in front of him before, and she was surprisingly unselfconscious. She only looked up at Gendry, calmer than she’d ever felt before in her life.

He craned his neck down to kiss her. His lips were as hot as his skin, almost searing. Arya wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself to stand on her toes as she deepened the kiss. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her off her feet completely; he took two long steps and lay her down on his bed, climbing up her body until she was gazing straight into his eyes. She nodded at him, and he lowered himself to kiss her. 

Somewhere in the room, the record stopped playing. 

 


	5. love is strange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Careful observers will notice that I've changed the number of chapters from 6 to 7, so this is no longer the penultimate chapter! I didn't write more, I just realized that the last chapter would be better split into two smaller parts than one big chunk. 
> 
> Thanks all for reading and reviewing--your comments make my day!

Breakfast was a silent affair. Arya wouldn’t stop looking at Ned; Ned refused to look at her. Catelyn kept glancing between them. Sansa seemed oblivious.

Over the loudspeaker, they heard the announcement for the end-of-summer talent show. Auditions were taking place that afternoon, but they all knew that everyone who auditioned would be granted a slot. 

Joffrey approached the table with a smile. “Hello, everyone,” he said in what he clearly thought was a charming voice. “Sansa, you’re going to audition for the talent show, aren’t you?”

Sansa opened her mouth to respond, but Ned spoke for her. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Sansa repeated in dismay.

“But Ned, we’re paid up until the end of the summer,” Catelyn said with a stunned look. 

“Daddy, I was going to perform in the talent show!” Sansa said. 

“Ned,” Catelyn said again. 

Ned gave them a forced smile. “It was just an idea,” he said. “We can stay.”

Joffrey smiled again. “I’ll see you in the rec hall later.” He left with his clipboard to go harangue other guests into performing in the talent show. 

“So Sansa,” Ned said, focusing on Sansa. “What were you thinking of singing?”

“‘I Feel Pretty’,” Sansa said. “Or ‘I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair.’ But I don’t know, what do you think, Daddy?”

Arya tuned out the rest of the conversation, choosing instead to stare out the window. 

Ned went on a walk before breakfast was over. 

“Why’s he acting so weird?” Sansa asked.

Catelyn sighed. “I don’t know. Somebody was sick last night--he got up in the middle of the night to take care of them. Maybe he’s just out of sorts, you know how he gets when he doesn’t get enough sleep.”

Sansa flashed Arya a look, and for a moment, Arya was afraid Sansa would tell their mother that she’d also been out late. But she turned back to Catelyn and only said, “Maybe I’ll sing ‘Sing, Sweet Nightingale’ from the  _ Cinderella _ movie.”

After breakfast, Arya left her mother and sister to go up to the staff quarters and visit Jeyne. The older girl was lying in bed, wearing a men’s plaid shirt as a robe. Fleetingly, Arya wondered if it was Gendry’s. 

“Hi, Arya,” Jeyne said, giving her a wide smile. Even without makeup and hairspray, even when she looked pale and drawn, she was still beautiful. “You just missed your father.”

Arya’s smile faltered. “Oh.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” Jeyne said. “Really, he saved my life, and he’s been so kind to me. I thought I was gonna die until you brought him.”

“He always taught me to do the right thing,” Arya said. 

The door opened and Gendry walked in. Arya and Jeyne both lit up; he smiled at Jeyne and averted his eyes from Arya’s. “Hey,” he said, kissing Jeyne’s cheek. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Much better,” Jeyne said. “Dr. Stark says I’m gonna be fine. He says I’ll even be able to have children.”

“Oh, Jeyne, that’s great,” Gendry said earnestly.

Jeyne looked between the two of them. “So, how’d it go last night?”

“It was fine,” Arya said, unable to take her eyes from Gendry. “I, um, didn’t do the lift because I chickened out, but it was good.”

Gendry didn’t say anything, and the silence seemed too loud.

“Well, I’d better go,” Arya said. “But, I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’ll...check on you later?” She left, but not before glancing one more time at Gendry. He did not look at her.

She waited outside the cabin. Gendry wasn’t looking at her and she was afraid, so afraid, that last night had been a mistake. Was she like the girls Sansa talked about, the ones who gave it up too soon and then the guy had cast her to the side? She hadn’t expected Gendry to fall in love with her or go steady with her or anything like that--but she hadn’t expected him to give her the cold shoulder, either.

When Gendry finally left Jeyne’s cabin, his eyes lit nervously on Arya. 

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi.” Gendry rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, listen, I have a lesson with the Merryweathers in three minutes and they’ll kill each other if I’m not there.”

“You should go,” Arya said. “If you...have to go.”

“Yeah.” Gendry hesitated before setting off, the gravel crunching under his feet.

Before she could stop herself, Arya shouted, “Gendry!”

He stopped and turned to look at her. But Arya didn’t know what she’d been planning to do if Gendry had looked at her, so she only stared back at him. After a long moment, Gendry gave her a smile. Arya smiled back, a wave of relief washing over her. He turned back and headed to the studio, and Arya returned to her family’s cabin.

The morning’s sunshine disappeared, giving way to a heavy rain. The four Starks were all trapped inside the cabin, tempers rising with every passing moment. Catelyn and Sansa began half-hearted efforts to pack while Ned tried to figure out a jigsaw puzzle. Arya tried to help him at first, but when it became clear that he was ignoring her, she decided she had had quite enough of her family for one day. She pulled on her rain jacket.

“Where are you going?” Sansa asked.

“They’re having charades in the west lobby,” Arya lied.

“Quite the little joiner, aren’t we?” 

Arya pushed open the screen door and pulled on her hood, ducking out into the rain. No one else was outside with all the rain, so no one saw her make the hike up to Gendry’s cabin. When she raised her fist to knock on the door, part of her was afraid that he would turn her away. But as soon as he opened the door, he tugged her inside, kissing her before he’d even latched the screen door. It was a matter of moments before their clothes were off and she was in his bed, and if she’d had any lingering doubts about Gendry’s feelings for her, they vanished at his touch. 

.

Late that night, when Arya and Sansa were staring at the ceiling and trying to fall asleep, Sansa murmured, “I think I’m gonna go all the way with Ramsay.”

Arya blinked, suddenly very awake. “Ramsay? What about Joffrey?”

“He’s pathetic,” Sansa said sleepily. “I know he’s only flirting with me because Daddy is such an important guest.”

Arya rolled onto her stomach. “Well, I’m glad you know that, but Sansa...don’t, don’t do it with Ramsay. You barely know him.”

“I know,” Sansa said dreamily. “That’s what’ll make it so romantic.”

“He’s not what you think, Sansa.”

“Oh, what do you care?” Sansa scoffed. “You wouldn’t care if I humped an entire army. You’re just jealous that you’re not Daddy’s girl anymore. He listens when I talk now, and you hate that.” She rolled onto her side, her back to Arya. The younger girl stared at her sister’s back for a moment before she rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling again. She hoped that Ramsay did something stupid, something to make even Sansa see him for the scum that he was. 

.

Arya came to see Gendry during his free afternoon period in the studio.

“Let’s dance,” she said, and he hadn’t needed any encouragement. He threw on some records and they goofed around, dancing and flirting with the music. 

“Where’s my pleasing arc?” she asked him in a bad imitation of his voice, giggling when he made a face. “Spaghetti arms!” His spaghetti arms looped around her, drawing her in against him. “This is my dance space,” she said, gesturing to the area around her. “This is yours.”

Gendry sank onto the ground while Arya danced to the changing screen in the corner.

“ _ Sylvia _ ,” the song said.

“ _ Yes, Mickey? _ ” Arya mouthed at Gendry.

“ _ How do you call your lover-boy?” _

_ “Oh, lover-boy.” _

_ “And if he doesn’t answer?” _

_ “Oh, lover-boy!” _

_ “And if he still don’t answer?” _

_ “I simply say baby, ooh-oh, baby, my sweet baby, you’re the one _ .” She was crawling to him on all fours and he was playing an air-guitar, and the next minute they were on their knees with their arms wrapped one another.

That was how Joffrey found them.

Or at least, that was how Joffrey  _ would _ have found them, if he hadn’t announced his arrival downstairs with a shout and they’d sprung apart just in time. Even so, Joffrey looked between the two of them. “Arya?” he said, watching Arya attempt a rumba. “You’re taking dance lessons?” When she only nodded disinterestedly, he said, “Well, I could teach you a thing or two!”

The record scratched, and Joffrey looked up in irritation--or, reflected Arya, perhaps that was just his face. “Gendry, I want to talk to you about the final dance for the talent show. Now, every year you do a mambo, but this year, my father’s given me permission to take the reins, and I’d like to shake things up a little.”

Gendry looked up, his scowl giving way to a look of genuine interest. “Yeah? That’s, that’s great! I’ve been coming up with some ideas, and I have one for this Dornish rhythm and soul crossover--”

“Slow down,” Joffrey said in a maddeningly condescending tone. “I only meant, instead of a mambo, I want to do a pachenga.”

Gendry stared at him for a long moment.

“Of course,” Joffrey said with a smug tone, “If you want to stick to the same old tired mambo routine, I’m sure my father won’t put up a fight, but I suppose we’d have to find someone else next year--someone more open to new ideas--”

“Sure, Joffrey.” Gendry’s voice was hard and clipped. “We’ll do the pachenga, Joffrey. Great idea, Joffrey.”

Joffrey looked taken aback at being spoken to this way; when he recovered, he glanced at Arya. “Make sure you’re getting the full half hour you’re paying for,” he spat before he stalked out of the studio. 

There was no more dancing or flirting after that.

“That little asshole,” Gendry said as he and Arya walked out of the studio. “He wouldn’t know a good idea if it him in the pachenga.”

“Why did you let him talk to you that way?” Arya asked. She couldn’t understand it--Gendry could kick Joffrey’s ass with minimal effort, and she knew from watching the father and son pair that Robert didn’t drop everything everytime Joffrey came crying to him. 

“Why? Because his dad is my boss, and someday Joffrey’s gonna run the joint.”

“But why didn’t you make him listen to your ideas?” she wanted to know, jogging to keep up with him. 

“Have you met Joffrey?”

“You just rolled over and gave up!” she accused. “You should fight harder, make him listen!”

“Look, I know these people,” Gendry seethed. “They’re rich and they’re mean, and they don’t think I’m smart enough to string together a full sentence--they don’t want to listen to my ideas. Besides, Miss Fix-It, I need this job lined up for next summer. My uncle called me up today, know what he had to say? He got me registered for the union.”

“What union?” Arya asked in an encouraging tone.

Gendry’s blue eyes had gone dull. “House Painters and Plasterers.”

Arya didn’t know what to say. She reached for Gendry, but right at that moment, she saw her father and sister and Ramsay come out of the rec hall below them. She grabbed Gendry and pulled him to duck beside her, watching the three of them through the foliage. Ned put his arms around both Sansa and Ramsay as they walked--when  they’d gone, Arya glanced at Gendry. “I don’t think they saw us.”

Gendry’s face was stony. “‘Fight harder’,” he echoed, standing up. “I don’t see you fighting to tell Daddy I’m your guy.”

Arya got to her own feet, stunned. “I...I will tell him. Soon. Things are complicated with him right now, but when the time is right--”

“I don’t believe you,” Gendry said, his eyes blazing. “I don’t think that you had any intention of telling your father  _ ever _ .” He stormed off, leaving Arya stunned and stinging in his wake. She took a long walk around the camp, a knot in her chest as she thought about Gendry. He was right--she hadn’t told her father, and hadn’t ever really planned on it. She didn’t see the point--it wasn’t as if she and Gendry were getting married. He hadn’t even made false promises to call her at school and take her on weekend retreats on the coast with his family like Joffrey had with Sansa. But it clearly upset Gendry, and even though they only had a few days left together, it was important to him that she tell her father.

But maybe that wasn’t the issue at all. Maybe Gendry was still upset about Joffrey--maybe he was even stinging from Arya telling him to fight harder. All Arya knew was that she had to go to him.

She couldn’t find him in the studio or in his cabin, and when she found Hot Pie in the kitchens, he said he hadn’t seen Gendry. “He might be with Jeyne,” he suggested.

So Arya sprinted up to Jeyne’s cabin, knocking breathlessly on the door. “Have you seen Gendry?” she blurted as soon as Jeyne answered the door.

Jeyne silently pushed the door open further, revealing Gendry. He stepped out of the cabin, both unwilling to look at Arya and unable to keep his eyes off of her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching for him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He became less stiff under her gentle kisses, let his arms drop from his chest. He was just starting to say something when Arya heard a familiar and unwelcome voice. 

“Looks like I picked the wrong sister. That's okay, Arya, I went slumming too.” It was Ramsay, his eyes glittering as he watched the two of them. 

In one swift movement, Gendry hopped the rail of Jeyne’s porch and swung his fist into Ramsay’s cheek, knocking the other man off balance. He knocked his other fist into Ramsay’s other cheek, causing the waiter to stagger back. The other staff who had been lounging around on their own porches gathered around, eagerly watching as Gendry kicked the living shit out of Ramsay. Ramsay tried to get in a few punches of his own, but he was no match for Gendry, who was both angry and moved like someone who had been in a fight before--many, in fact. When had spoiled, rotten, pre-med Ramsay ever been in a fight? 

It soon became apparent that Ramsay didn’t stand a chance, and Gendry could easily rearrange his face. “This is too easy,” Gendry snarled, shaking the other man. “Get out of here--come find me when you can fight like a man.” 

Ramsay scrambled away, some of the staff hooting and hollering at his retreating form. Gendry, thoroughly unruffled, turned back to Arya and Jeyne, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes. Jeyne turned silently back into her cabin. Gendry walked over to the railing and wrapped his arms around Arya, burying his head in her stomach. The anger seemed to have left him; when he looked up at Arya, the look he gave her was tender. 

Arya had never been in love with a boy before, but she began to suspect she was now. 


	6. she's like the wind

Over dinner, Arya saw Sansa flirting with Ramsay every time he came to their table. She remembered what Sansa had told her the night before about going all the way with Ramsay, and with a lurch of guilt, she remembered that she hadn’t done anything to stop it. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

In the end, it was Jeyne who “accidentally” spilled soda on Sansa’s pretty dress and insisted on helping her clean it up in the bathroom. Arya never knew what exactly transpired in that bathroom, but they walked out side by side, and when Ramsay tried to ask Sansa for a dance later, she gave him a look dripping with disdain. Arya couldn’t hear what she said, but it was obvious from the way she flounced off that it had been a rejection. 

“What did you say to her?” Arya asked later.

Jeyne just smiled. “That’s between me and her.”

.

Robert and Joffrey joined the Starks for breakfast the next morning. Arya was tired from having stayed late at Gendry’s cabin, but even through her tired haze she couldn’t help noticing that Robert was visibly upset about something. 

“What’s bothering you, Robert?” Ned asked. 

Robert shook his head. “You think you know a guy...and then he lets you down.”

“What happened?” Catelyn asked.

Robert heaved a sigh. “Orton Merryweather’s wallet went missing while he was playing cards last night.”

Joffrey, who had clearly been dying to share the news, added, “It was in his jacket hanging over the back of his chair. He had it at two when he took a smoke break; when he checked again at a quarter of four, it was missing.” 

“Ramsay thinks he remembers the dance teacher, Gendry, walking by.”

Arya sat up, her attention fully on Robert. 

“So we ask him, ‘You have an alibi last night?’ He says he was alone in his room... _ reading _ .” Robert emphasized the last word, as if to show just what he thought of this.

“There are no books in Gendry’s room,” Joffrey said smugly to Sansa.

“There’s been a mistake,” Arya said quickly. It had been about four when she’d left Gendry’s cabin, half-asleep; he’d had to gently wake her up and tell her she should go back to her family’s cabin. “Gendry couldn’t have stolen Mr. Merryweather’s wallet.”

“It’s happened here before,” Robert said. “Three wallets this summer, and there’s been thefts over at the Duskendale. It’s gotta be him.”

“I know it wasn’t him--” Arya tried to say again, but Joffrey rolled his eyes at her.

“Stay out of it, Arya.”

“Oi, don’t put those tables together like that!” Robert rumbled, heaving himself to his feet and marching over to where a waiter was indeed pushing two tables together.

Arya began to panic. The odds were against Gendry. Joffrey and Ramsay both hated him--they may have even teamed up to get Gendry fired, for all she knew. She took Robert’s seat, sitting next to her father. “Daddy, I need your help. I know Gendry didn’t steal that wallet.”

“How do you know?” Ned asked, looking directly at her for the first time since he’d helped Jeyne.

Arya hesitated. “I...I can’t tell you.”

Ned’s face fell, and just like that he was back to looking anywhere but at her.

“Daddy, please, trust me--”

“I’m sorry, Arya,” he said to his toast. “I can’t.”

Robert was back, grumbling about the Danish in his hand. 

“Mr. Baratheon, maybe Gendry didn’t do it,” she said, hating how frantic her voice sounded. “It could’ve been anyone. Just because Ramsay thought he saw something--”

“Ramsay’s going to medical school,” Robert said, as if this explained everything. “Gendry doesn’t have an alibi.” He looked up at Joffrey. “Come on, Joffrey--you’ll learn what it’s like to fire an employee.”

Arya was desperate, and her desperation made her lose her inhibitions. “Wait,” she said with more force than she’d ever used on an adult before. “I know Gendry didn’t take that wallet. I know because he was in his room all night...and I know because...because I was with him.”

It went deadly silent for a moment as everyone stared at Arya. Cute, sweet little Arya had spent all night with the older dance instructor from the wrong side of the tracks. She knew that’s what they were all thinking. That’s exactly what she hadn’t wanted them to think. But now it was out there, and they couldn’t blame Gendry. They just couldn’t. 

Robert muttered something about talking to Ramsay before he shuffled off, Joffrey following with a scandalized look. 

“I’ve lost my appetite,” Arya said, getting up too. 

No one stopped her.

She took a long walk around the property, her heart pounding all the while. They knew. They all knew now. Sansa, her parents, even Robert and Joffrey knew that she had spent all night in Gendry’s cabin, that she had been there as late as four in the morning. Part of her became angry. How could they not have known? Sansa was one thing, but how could her parents not have known where she was all night every night? Hadn’t they wondered? Hadn’t they thought to ask her or forbid her or  _ something _ ?

Arya’s ire cooled when she stomped up to the gazebo and found her father, sitting in a chair and staring out over the lake. She hadn’t expected to find anyone here, let alone him. 

“I told you I was telling the truth,” she said softly. 

He didn’t stir.

“I didn’t lie to you. But you lied to me.” Her voice shook. “You told me everyone was alike and deserved fair treatment. But you only meant people like you. You told me you wanted me to change the world. Make it better. But you meant by going to college and marrying a lawyer or economist. Going to fundraisers and donating money without ever getting my hands dirty.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I know I disappointed you. But I’m part of this family, whether or not you like it, and you can’t keep giving me the silent treatment. There are a lot of things about me that aren’t...that aren’t what you thought. But if you love me, you have to love  _ all _ the things about me. The way I love you, and Mom, and Sansa and Jon and Robb and Bran and Rickon.” She waited, but still he said nothing. “I’m sorry I let you down. I am. But you let me down, too.” She turned on her heel and scurried back down the stairs. She walked and walked until she found Gendry’s cabin. It was locked, but she knew he kept a key under the porch, so she let herself in and crawled into his bed. 

She woke up what could have been minutes or hours later and saw Gendry standing over her. She smiled at him, blearily, forgetting for a moment what had driven her up here in the first place.

“I have been looking everywhere for you,” Gendry said, too tenderly to be stern. “They found the stolen wallets. All of ‘em. Little old Olenna Tyrell has been nabbing wallets all over the area--she made a fortune this summer.”

“So...it’s all right?” Arya said, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “It worked out! I knew they’d have to apologize--”

“I’m out, Arya,” he interrupted, a hardness coming to his blue eyes.

Realization dawned. “They fired you anyway...because of me.”

“And if I leave quietly, I get my summer bonus,” he said bitterly.

Arya wanted to cry. “So I did it for nothing. I hurt my family and you lost your job for  _ nothing _ .”

“No,” Gendry said, his eyes turning steely. “No,  _ not _ for nothing. No one has ever done anything like that for me before.”

“You were right,” she said, getting up and pacing up and down his floor. “There’s no point in fighting.”

“Hey!” His voice was sterner than she’d ever heard it before. “I don’t ever want to hear that from you. Ever. You believed in fighting, in changing the world.”

She took a deep, teary breath. “I used to.”

Gendry crossed to her, gathered her up in his arms. 

“When do you have to go?” she asked, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

He sighed. “Today.”

A sob escaped her, and Gendry held her so tightly it hurt.

They made love one last time. After that, he packed up his car with his meager possessions--mostly clothes and records. 

“I wanna say my goodbyes,” he said, kissing her. “Will you wait here for me?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

She waited on the steps of his cabin. She knew he’d want to say goodbye to Jeyne and Lommy and Hot Pie and probably all the other staff, too. It was late in the afternoon when Gendry returned.  “I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly. “I didn’t mean to take so long.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay--you had a lot of goodbyes to make.”

He gave her a bitter smile. “I saved the hardest for last.”

Arya smiled so that she wouldn’t cry. “I can’t imagine this place without you,” she said. “Even for a couple days.” 

“Well, hey,” he said, forcing a smile. “Now you’ll have more time for...horseshoes and croquet.”

She took his hand. “I’m not sorry.”

“Neither am I,” he said quietly. He pulled her against him, kissed her long and lingering. “I’ll see ya.”

“Yeah,” she murmured. “See ya.”

And then he was climbing into his car and driving off, and it occurred to Arya that she had never told him that she loved him.


	7. and i never felt this way before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are--the final chapter!! Thank you all so, so much for reading this fic and leaving the sweetest reviews--y'all are truly a pleasure to write for! I hope you enjoy this last installment--and I hope you have the TIME OF YOUR LIVES.

The next couple days passed at a snail’s pace. Arya spent most of her time by the lake, reading the books she’d packed and hadn’t picked up until now. When she felt inescapably lonely, she’d bum in Jeyne’s cabin or help Lommy with errands or visit Hot Pie in the kitchens. She avoided her family whenever possible, and that seemed to be working for everyone. Ned was still giving her the silent treatment, still unable to look at her. Catelyn and Sansa were both giving her space, their smiles painfully forced whenever she looked at them. Arya cried both nights, muffling her sobs in her pillow, but Sansa had heard and crawled into the narrow twin bed beside her. She hadn’t said anything, just held Arya like she had when they were kids. 

The final evening at Baratheon’s arrived. They would have an early dinner and then go to the dance hall, where the end-of-summer talent show was taking place. Sansa had decided to sing Elvis’s “The Wonder of You”. Before dinner, when they were getting dressed, Sansa sat on Arya’s bed beside her. “I could do your hair,” she offered solicitously. 

Arya gave her a watery smile. Sansa wordlessly took her in her arms again, rocking her as Arya tried not to cry. She would save the tears for later. Tonight was for Sansa.

Folding chairs had been set up in the dance hall, but Robert saw to it that the Starks had one of the little round tables along the sides. Ned had helped Catelyn into her seat, leaving the seat shoved into the corner of the wall for Arya. That way, Arya reflected as she took it, he wouldn’t have to look at his disappointing daughter. 

The talent show was about as Arya expected--poor to mediocre talent. At least it was something to take Arya’s mind off of Gendry. The best part was by far Sansa’s song, which won a round of hearty applause. Ned put his fingers in his mouth and whistled for his daughter, who was flushed with pleasure at the reception.

Finally, the talent show came to an end, with all the performers lining up onstage with Joffrey. In his high, almost child’s voice, Joffrey sang:

_ “Baratheon’s we come together _

_ Singing all as one; _

_ We have shared another season’s _

_ Talent, play, and fun. _

_ Summer days will soon be over _

_ Soon the autumn starts, _

_ And tonight the memories whisper, _

_ Softly in our hearts.” _

The others joined in with:

_ “Join hands and hearts and voices, _

_ Voices, hearts, and hands _

_ At Baratheon’s the friendships last _

_ Long as the mountain stands.” _

Now Sansa came forward to sing a solo.

_ “Daytime, nighttime, any hour _

_ Weather rain or shine, _

_ Games and lectures, _

_ Jokes and music _

_ Happily combine.” _

Ramsay walked by right at that moment, and Ned hustled out of his seat. Arya couldn’t hear everything that was said, but she saw her father hold out an envelope to Ramsay. A check, it must be. Ramsay  _ hadn’t _ deflowered Ned’s other precious little girl--if only Ned knew that he had tried to. Ramsay said something, and Ned’s smile drew into a frown. With a clenched jaw, he snatched the envelope back from Ramsay and sat down at the table, pocketing the envelope. Arya and Catelyn gave him a questioning look, but he only shook his head. 

Arya smirked at Ramsay.

Robert was stepping out now to sing about vacations and joining hands, but Arya didn’t hear him because right at that moment, a figure in black strode up to their table. Arya looked up and realized with a leap that it was Gendry. He looked at Ned. “Nobody puts Arya in the corner.” He held out his hand to her, and too excited to ask him what he meant, she took his hand and let him pull her up the steps and onto the stage. Everyone onstage fell silent, turning to gape at the pair.

“Sorry for the interruption, folks,” Gendry said, not sounding sorry at all as he faced the crowd. “But I always do the last dance of the season. This year, someone told me not to. But someone else told me to fight harder for the things I want. So I’m gonna do my kind of dancing with a partner who isn’t just a terrific dancer, but is someone who taught me that there are people willing to stand up to other people...no matter what it cost them.” He glanced at Arya. “Someone who taught me about the kind of person I want to be. Miss Arya Stark.”

Slowly, the stage cleared. Gendry went backstage to take off his leather jacket and say something to Lommy, and in a moment, one of the songs Arya and Gendry had listened to when they were fooling around in his studio came on. Gendry came out onto the stage, taking hold of Arya’s waist as tenderly and familiarly as if they really were just fooling around in his studio. She smiled, realizing that he was moving them into position to do the dance they’d performed at the Duskendale. That had happened only a few days ago, and Arya’s body remembered the dance at once, her feet falling into place and her hand catching Gendry’s at just the right moment. Sometimes they had to alter a step or a motion to fit the music, but not once did it feel awkward or out of place. Dimly, she was aware of the crowd whooping and hollering their approval. The song picked up around the time they would have done the lift, and with a grin, Gendry hopped off the stage, urging the other Baratheon’s staff to come dancing up the aisle in the Dornish rhythm and soul combination he’d mentioned to Joffrey. Arya stood on the stage, laughing and moving, and when Gendry looked up at her, she nodded. Lommy and Hot Pie helped her off the stage and she ran to Gendry, and when he lifted her in the air, she did not fall down. The room went wild, screaming and applauding, and after a long moment, Gendry finally eased her down. She laughed and put her arms around him, feeling happier than she could ever remember being.

All around them, people were getting up and dancing. Out of the corner of her eye, Arya saw her father talking to Jeyne. Nearby, Lommy and Hot Pie were dancing with each other.

“Aren’t you going to find girls to dance with?” she asked them.

“Girls? Why?” Lommy asked with a frown.

Hot Pie rolled his eyes. “We’re  _ dating _ , Arya.”

She blinked at them, and then laughed, because she wondered why she hadn’t noticed before now. 

“Come on,” Gendry murmured in her ear. “Let’s get outta here.”

She took his hand and he pulled them towards the door. Ned stepped out to stop them, his gaze trained on Gendry. “I know you weren’t the one to get Jeyne in trouble,” he said. He cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you.”

Gendry gave him a wary smile and shook his hand. 

Ned turned to Arya, his gaze softening. “You looked wonderful out there.”

Arya beamed. Ned reached for her and she threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. 

“Now, off with you,” he said, kissing her head. “It’s your last night here, and I’m sure you want to spend it with Gendry.”

“Thank you,” she murmured so that only he could hear her. She took Gendry’s hand and followed him out into the night.


End file.
